When I nailed up my new shop sign,my friends all laughed.
"The Great Elf Detective," it said. "Solve any crime in
minimal time."
Hardwinkle Dwarf slapped me on the back till the brass
buttons of my green suit jangled. "Snap out of it Bucky," he
guffawed. "You never solved any case."
"I'm thinking positively," I replied tapping a nail in
with a hammar. I knew I could be the greatest. All was I
needed a chance to prove it. So I sent an ad to the Fairy
Times Gazette:
For help with any
Puzzling mystery write to
The Great Elf Detective,
Bucky Goodfellow,
The Fairy Wood, Rekab Tree 332C
"That should do it," I chuckled. But no. Weeks went by.
Not a letter, not a note, not a postcard.
"Bucky." My mother sighed. "Why can't you be happy as a
shoe cobbler? Your father and grandfather were shoe
cobblers."
"But I'm not my father or grandfather, " I said, sorting
the day's mail. I grabbed a large, lavender envelope.
"Look!" I tapped my wooden heels together with glee. "It's
addressed to the Great Elf Detective!"
I ripped it open and found a note written in huge purple
letters:
Dear Mr. Goodfellow,
There's a purple cow in my attic! At least when I wake
up every morning another Violet Curly Grass plant has been
munched off. So my house must be haunted by a purple cow. I
heard they live in attics. Do you think it could be
dangerous?
If you could help me I would be
Gratefully Yours,
Jilette the Giantess
Hyacinth Estates, Violet Mansion 256B
"A purple cow?" I scratched my chin. "In an attic?
Mother, please hand me the Encyclopedia of Legendary
Creatures."
I opened the encyclopedia and read, "A mythical violet-
colored beast who haunts attics. Its staple food is Violet
Curly Grass, which stains it such an unusual color."
"This is a dire situation," I gasped. "I'll leave at
once." Jamming my feathered red cap on my head, I bolted out
the door.
I had no trouble finding Jillette's huge purple mansion.
As I scurried up the marble walkway, Jillette plodded out to
meet me, wearing mud-spattered gardening boots. Her eyebrows
squinted together from worry wrinkles and she carried a spade
and trowel in each hand.
"Hello, Mr. Goodfellow," she said, peering down at me
through the bifocles perched on her nose. "I'm sorry for
staring, but I'm a bit nearsighted. Have you any thoughts on
the case, yet?"
"First I should look at the scene of the crime." I
whipped out a notepad and took a pencil from behind my ear.
"Please proceed Ms. Jilette."
I followed her around the mansion. "Here's my plot of
curly grass," she announced, pointing to several rows of
grape-colored, corkscrewed grass. Dew-like beads of
purple juice oozed from the grasses and dribbled to the
ground.
I jotted down details. A plum orchard standing on one
side of the grass plot. A line of wisteria bushes marching
down the other. A purple splotched bird preening in a purple
nest.
"The Mottled Karvex." Jilette pointed at the bird as it
swayed in a wisteria bush. "I love birdwatching and
gardening."
I nodded, inspecting the ground. No hoof prints, I
wrote on my notepad. "It seems the curly grass had been
pulled or snapped off. Not bitten." I held a magnifying
glass over the dry, withered grass stalks. "See? No
teeth marks."
"What does it mean?" Jilette nibbled her
fingernails. "A purple cow with arms?"
"Hmm." I scratched my chin. "Probably not. But we
should consider any possibility." I jotted in my notepad: A
mutant cow with arms?
I flipped my notepad shut. "If there's a purple cow it
would hide in your attic during the day. Let's take a look."
We scoured the attic all afternoon, but turned up
nothing but a cloud of dust and a purple draped sofa.
Jilette went into sneezes and hysterics. "There's only one
thing left to do," I said once she calmed down. "We must
watch the garden tonight and try to catch the thief."
After twilight we crouched behind a plum tree
and Jilette crouched behind a tree. Jillette bit her lip and
wrung her hands. "Stop whimpering," I hissed, raising my
binoculars. "It'll give us away."
Night fell and the stars popped out. In the moonlight, I
kept track with my pocket watch. By midnight nothing had
happened. One o'clock, the two in the morning. Jilette
yawned.
At five thirty, we were both half asleep. Then, just as
the pale gray dawn cracked the eastern sky, the wisteria
bushes rustled.
Jilette jerked awake. "Here it comes." She raised the
big black cane she'd brought.
We stared at the lavender-blossomed bushes. Suddenly a
splotched purple shape darted from the bush and landed in the
curly grass.
"It's your Mottled Karvex," I sighed.
"Oh." She lowered the cane, sounding relieved. "I guess
the purple cow isn't going to come."
"Wait." I pointed to the Karvex. "What's the bird
doing?"
"I can't see." She squinted. "My eyes, remember?"
I scratched my head. "It think it's pulling up the
curly grass. Ms. Jilette if you have a bird book handy I
believe I can solve the mystery."
We hurried inside and Jilette led me to her library. I
flipped through a book on bird species to "Mottle Karvex."
"Just as I thought," I said. "The Mottled Karvex uses
Violet Curly Grass to build its nest. The baby Karvi love
curly grass juice. It's what splotches them purple.
There's your thief, Jilette!" I slammed the book down
triumphantly.
"I -- I don't understand."
"Ms. Jilette," I explained, "the Mottled Karvex has been
taking your curly grass. The only purple cow here is in your
imagination." "
"No purple cow?" Jilette frowned as she thought.
"None. Just some baby birds that need your curly grass
to live."
"Oh the poor things!" she exclaimed. "Why, they can have
all they want. Now, would you like some breakfast, Mr.
Goodfellow?"
"I'm starving." Pulling out my notepad, I followed
her to the dining room. I licked my pencil and proudly
scribbled: the Case of the Purple Cow is closed.
Just wait till Hardwinkle Dwarf hears about this!